


Rocket Launcher

by Rotwang



Category: Alex Verus Series - Benedict Jacka
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Alex Verus, Explicit Consent, M/M, implication of past sexual assault (nothing intense or graphic), set after Cursed (book 2), sometimes you've had a hard day and you just want a hot man to dick you down, turns out Alex actually is Garrick's type
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rotwang/pseuds/Rotwang
Summary: Alex Verus has had a rough couple of years. Like 30 of them, actually. So when he runs into an old enemy, he's ready to deal with whatever they have to throw at him... well, maybe not 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the bullshit about wizard society "not talking about being gay" or "it just isn't something their society deals with" makes me mad as hell-- especially since Alex Verus is canonically brown and bisexual sorry I do make the rules now--suck it Jaka.
> 
> Anyway Garrick was a really fun one off character in Cursed and I want him to come back and hang out. This is old but enjoy some crack ship lol
> 
> (Also tell me my headcanon for Rahul Kohli as Alex isn't fucking amazing)

I swore, hopping back and bracing myself on the wall so I could clutch at my foot and avoid the dark liquid and glass that was spreading out over my kitchen floor.

I'm not prone to accidents. I've got pretty good reflexes, and being able to see the future usually helps me avoid the minor scrapes and scratches of every day life. I also have an apprentice though. And in the few weeks she's held the title, I've caught a little taste of her curse.

Luna isn't like other Adepts, her magic is from an ancient curse, passed down in her family for generations. She is learning to control it, with my help, but neither of us have quite gotten the hang of our training yet. I may be the master in the relationship, but I've got just as much to learn as she has.

As it is, spending extra time with her, (and her curse under various levels of control) has lead to a few days of accidents like the one that just involved the pinkly toe of my left foot.

I swore again and grabbed a handful of paper towels, crouching down to blot at the tragedy that was the remains of my last beer. I picked up the last of the big chunks of glass, and stepped around the area extra carefully to get to the pantry and the hand-vac. With my luck the way it was I knew there was probably a vicious piece of glass just waiting for my bare feet somewhere out there.

After I cleaned the mess I stood in the living room, frowning. Today had not been what I would call a great day. Considering a couple weeks ago I'd nearly been cut in half by a mantis golem and then almost blasted to pulp by a mage 10 times my level I guess that's not quite a fair assessment-- but by regular day standards it had been pretty shitty.

I could blame it all on Luna's curse-- but it was also just one of Those Days. You know the ones. Well, at least, if you've ever worked in customer service you do.

I sighed, running a hand through my unruly dark hair. Shockingly, my flat was bereft of alcohol at the moment. I'd finished my harder stuff with Luna to celebrate after her Apprentice Ceremony, and hadn't restocked yet. I'm not a huge drinker-- I'd love to be, don't get me wrong-- but if you've ever tried to sort through a thousand branching futures, only a few of which allow you to survive, you know it's hard enough to do sober. I guess that's not the most universal of experiences, but let's just say that being a lush isn't really a luxury I can afford.

I sighed again, sitting on the couch and pulling on my socks, my left foot still throbbing from where I'd dropped the beer bottle on it. There was a pub about a block over. I went there sometimes, if I didn't feel like being alone but didn't feel like socializing much either. Tonight felt like one of those nights. Also, major plus: they have alcohol.

I finished pulling on my shoes and socks and stood up, fishing a jumper from the back of the couch where I'd left it at some point. I stopped at the door and considered one of my heavier coats, but it was a temperate night and I wasn't going far.

I grabbed my keys and wallet from my end table, casually scanning the futures for any trouble on my way out. There was a homeless man who would yell at me in the alley, but otherwise my path was clear. Maybe even pleasant. I closed the door to my flat and headed down the stairs, feeling the quiet power of my wards as I stepped out of the shop door and locked it behind me.

The pub was the same as it always was. Dark, but friendly. It was one of those old pubs in London that gave you the feeling it'd always been there. Like it was built into the brick and mortar of the building itself.

I pushed my hair back again, scanning the room out of habit. It wasn't a busy night, but it wasn't empty either, and the room had a sort of pleasant buzz of relaxed conversation that places got passed a certain time of night. I headed to the bar itself and sat down near the wall away from the door. There were a couple other guys at the bar, but they were chatting at the other end, barely registering me as I walked by.

The barman gave me a nod. He recognized me, but we weren't on chatting terms. I ordered, a whiskey sour, just to live it up a little. He didn't say anything as he placed it in front of me, just another nod. I returned it, and took a much needed sip of my drink.

I may not be much of a drinker, but every time I do drink enough to feel something I always wish it was something I could do more often. Not that I wish I had a problem or anything, just that alcohol really can take the edge off. 

If it wasn't clear, my life is full of edges. Most of them sharp, and pointed at me. It means I've basically spent my entire adult life either unconscious, or in that tense moment before fight or flight kicks in. By its nature alcohol dulls that a little. Not to mention that it physically lets me relax my shoulders. My trapezius muscles are a masseurs worst nightmare, or greatest dream, depending on how well their competitive spirit handles failure.

I let my shoulders drop, feeling the ever-present dull ache they carried twinge and settle back into it's regular pattern as my right clavicle popped. The whiskey burned pleasantly in my chest and stomach, and I took another long drink. The nice thing about not being much of a drinker is that when I do drink, it doesn't take much to satisfy me.

I sat there for a long time, letting the alcohol warm me up and loosen my tight muscles. It's a strange thing, to realize all at once that your body is coiled tight. I'd even had a relaxing day, physically anyway. I cracked my neck, grunting a little. I guess 11 yers of always being on edge isn't so easy to brush off.

Suddenly something flashed in my precognition, not a threat-- not exactly. But I stiffened on my stool, my right arm snaking down to my ankle where it was braced on one of the legs of my seat. The knife I had was thin and long, not much to look at but it was razor sharp and, unlike most people who collected knives, I knew how to use it.

The door of the pub opened, the two ancient bells at the top jangling dully. I didn't turn to look a the man who had just entered, instead, I let my hand close around the hilt of the knife as I hid the rest of it up my sleeve. I held myself still at the bar as the new arrival stepped into the pub. 

I was scanning futures in earnest now, looking for the tell-tale burst of branches that signaled a fight. There weren't any. I looked again. Still, nothing but the forking and jumbled tangles of conversation. 

I didn't relax. The man was walking towards me now, and I clasped the knife tighter while I mentally plotted my escape out the back. I could make it off the stool and through the back room of the pub before he could get to me. Bonus of going though the backdoor, I'd have the wall separating the front and the rear of the bar to stop the new arrival from shooting me in the back.

There were still no violent futures popping up-- but that didn't mean the man approaching me wasn't dangerous.

I still didn't look at him as he pulled off his helmet, shaking his sandy hair as he did. Garrick put the helmet down on the bar and slid onto the stool right next to me.

Garrick wasn't a mage, wasn't even a Sensitive, as far as I knew. What he was was a highly trained, highly dangerous mercenary. And a few months ago he'd made a very, very good go of trying to kill me. A few times.

“Hi Garrick.” I said. Still not looking at him as I took another drink.

“Sharp as always, Verus.” He signaled to the barman, who poured him a generous two fingers of high end scotch.

“Well you almost take a rocket launcher to the face, you tend to stay on your toes.” I saw Garrick smile, just the smallest twinge at the corner of his mouth. I 'd always thought he looked like a wolf, all tanned skin over white teeth. 

“You must've got under someone's skin pretty bad.” He took a drink, relaxed. “Rocket launchers aren't cheap.”

I shrugged, taking my own drink. “You would know.” I said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Both taking our time sipping our drinks and giving the other a once over out of the corner of our eye. Finally I sighed.

“Look, I've had a bit of a day, so if you're not here for an encore murder attempt, what are you here for?” I finally turned to look at him as I said it, but this time it was Garrick who didn't look at me. He just took another languid sip of his drink, swirling the amber liquid in the glass.

“A drink.” He said, finally. “What's it look like.”

“A... drink.” I repeated, staring at him. He finally glanced at me, light blue eyes flashing in the low light. They were piercing, even half lidded and relaxed as they were.

“Yup.” He said. I frowned. Garrick was a mercenary. He'd been hired by-- well everyone who'd been involved in the business with Belthas during the summer. He'd played the field, as far as employers went, but the only job he hadn't completed, as far as I knew, was the hit Levistus had put out on me. 

I was actually surprised to see Garrick. I wasn't surprised he was alive-- I'd pretty much figured that out that the moment Arachne hadn't been able to find his body in the rubble of her cave. But I was surprised he was still in London. I can't imagine Levistus was too happy about the way things had played out.

“Not here to tie up that one pesky loose end that's been wandering around...?” I probed.  
Garrick looked away again, down at his drink. “If I was here to kill you, you'd know about it.” He said it as nonchalantly as anyone else would discuss football scores. I stopped. He was right. Garrick wasn't one for games even if I hadn't been a diviner. I frowned and turned back to my drink, still looking at Garrick.

“Levistus isn't interested in me.” He said after a moment. I shrugged, just a little. That was true. Most mages couldn't give a damn about regular humans, and come to think of it-- how would Levistus even know Garrick was alive? It wasn't like anyone could get into Arachne's cave again, so unless Garrick went to Levistus himself...

“I'm officially MIA, presumed dead.” He said, as if reading my thoughts.

I snorted, just a little. “I don't think the people who wrote those reports know you very well.” That earned a bigger smile from Garrick. Lopsided and flashing teeth.

“Suits me.” He said, with a shrug of his own. He turned towards me, all languid grace as he leaned on the bar. “I'm retiring.”

I just looked at him. I wasn't sure what to do with that information. “Congratulations...?” I said slowly.

I was sort of starting to relax. The futures were still free from any violence, and Garrick, for as much as he was dangerous, even at rest, wasn't giving me any bad vibes. The opposite, actually. This was... almost friendly? Had he followed me to this bar specifically to have a drink? And for that matter, if he'd been following me, how had I not seen him when I left my shop?

“You didn't follow me here.” I said it as much as asked. If he hadn't popped up in my diviner's sight then our meeting hadn't been premeditated.

He took another sip of his drink. “I saw you come this way while I was passing through.” He shrugged, a little more guarded. “Didn't decide to come in until later.”

Ah. That made sense. I hadn't been actively searching futures when I'd gotten to the bar, and if he hadn't decided what he was going to do he wouldn't have pinged on my radar.

“Didn't see me coming?” He smiled his wolfish smile at me again.

I scoffed. “I saw you the moment you decided to come inside.” I pulled the slender knife out of my sleeve and flipped it up for him to see before I bent down and slid it back into its sheath. When I came back up Garrick was regarding me with an expression I couldn't quite place. He looked, amused? Pleased? I stared at him, a little off balance.

“Always prepared, aren't you?” His eyes were really quite blue. I don't think I'd noticed before.

I looked back down at my drink, shaking off his gaze as I shrugged. “I don't know if I could beat you in a knife fight...” Garrick's grin was positively predatory. “But I'd like to think I'd give you a run for your money.” I finished off my drink, letting the glass click back onto the bar when I was done.

“You'd be able to hold me off long enough to make a run for the backdoor at least.” Garrick said, nodding along.   
I chuckled at that. “I didn't get where I am today by trying to win fights.” I said, fumbling in my pocket for my wallet.

Suddenly Garrick leaned over the bar towards me. I jerked back a little, not violently, but the smooth movement of someone with all their muscles engaged, ready to run. Garrick flashed me that grin again, all teeth. He tapped two fingers on the dark wood by my empty glass, exchanging nods with the bartender, who scooped it up and started making me another.

I narrowed my eyes at Garrick as he withdrew from my space, slowly relaxing back onto the stool. I pushed my hair out of my face, trying to be more casual than I felt.

“You buying?” I said, after a moment. Garrick raised his eyebrows and leaned farther over onto the bar, resting his chin on his fist. His eyes were half lidded, like a big cat waiting for its prey in the shade.

“I can afford it.” He said. I didn't miss his meaning. Garrick had been employed by every single Council mage I knew. Mostly at the same time. “You mages pay better than anyone else out there.” He smiled that smile again, self satisfied.

“Mmmm.” I grunted. “I'm sure it helps when you've got upwards of three employers paying you for the same exact things.” I said, nodding to the barman, who'd put a fresh whiskey sour in front of me.

Garrick shrugged, not bothered. “Helps that mages don't really give a yot about money.” He finished off his own drink and it was refilled immediately.

“S'not really what they're interested in.” I said absently as I tried my new drink.

“S'why they're so easy to play.” He said, matching my tone and cadence.

I glanced back at him, my expression neutral. He wasn't wrong. Mages would always underestimate Garrick because he wasn't a mage. They'd never see him as any kind of threat. It was an attitude I was all too familiar with. 

I shrugged and set my drink down with a clink.

“Except you.” He said. When I looked back at him his eyes were more focused. He was still all relaxed lines and casual grace, but he was leaning towards me a little now.

I scoffed. “Is that why you're here? I'm the only mage you didn't fleece?” I grinned my own sardonic grin, shaking my head a little. “Well you're out of luck. I'm worth peanuts compared to Belthas or Levistus.” I pushed the hair out of my eyes. “And I'm not looking for any help in the shop at the moment.” I held my arm out, gesturing to my dress and current situation as evidence for my claims.

Garrick raised his eyebrows at me, unimpressed. He looked back down at his drink and took a generous gulp. Like he needed the extra alcohol to deal with my theatrics. I've been told I can be a bit of a diva sometimes. I don't think I am, it's just something I've been told.

“Do you know how many people I've been contracted to deal with.” Garrick said after a minute. Nobody was under any illusions about what “deal with” meant coming from Garrick.

I shook my head slowly, feeling myself tense again, ready for danger. He shot me a quick glance, flashing his teeth in another lightning fast grin. This one wasn't as nice as the others.

“Hazard a guess?” He said. His eyes were playful, but still dangerous. I just watched him, holding still under his eyes. He leaned forward again, coming closer to me than he had before. 

“No one has ever given me a run for my money the way you did.” His smile softened, becoming more genuine. The effect it had on his face was a little startling. Garrick had always been handsome, but he'd never really struck me before. He was always reserved, detached, or-- actively firing a gun at me-- so I hadn't really thought about it before.

I looked away, taking a sip of my drink and definitely not thinking that Garrick might actually be quite attractive. The fact he wasn't trying to kill me was giving him a lot of points too. 

I really need to up my standards.

Garrick leaned back. Adopting his more usual half lidded stare and his face relaxing into an amused expression. 

“I'd say I was happy to give you the practice, but I really could have done without the stress.” I finally said. I kept my tone casual, but Garrick had come seriously close to killing me. I know it wasn't personal, but it was a little hard not to forget the utter fear and helplessness I'd felt in the tunnels under Arachne's cave.

Having Garrick refer to it as a “run for his money” made me feel a little cold pit open up in my stomach.

Garrick could feel the shift. He didn't react much, but he did straighten a little. He looked away from me, running his lithe fingers around the lip of his glass.

“I barely made it out of that cave.” He said after a minute. That made me look at him. “I basically collapsed the tunnel on top of myself.” He shook his head ruefully. “If I didn't know a life mage who owed me a favor I'd still be in traction.” He took another drink.

I didn't say anything for a long time. Thinking about the broken and scorched stone in the tunnel of Arachne's cave.

“Well that makes two of us.” I said finally. He looked over at me as he set his drink down, his brow a little furrowed. 

“Who almost didn't make it out of that cave.” I said, clarifying. Garrick snorted, his smile more wry than predatory. 

The tension had ebbed a bit. For some reason I felt a little better, knowing Garrick had had to fight just as hard as I had to stay alive back in that cave. 

We sat in silence for a while, sipping at our drinks. This was the most I'd ever spoken with Garrick, but I can't say I understood him any better. I took a cursory glance through the futures to try and catch a hint of why Garrick had come here, but the conversations were making the pathways break into a thousand pieces upon a thousand pieces, so I gave it up, trusting my precognition would warn me if anything serious changed.

“Why did you warn me to stay away.” I finally said, waiting for him to finish taking a sip of his scotch. He glanced over at me, frowning again. “At Belthas' office.” I said. His eyebrows went up as he nodded, remembering.

He didn't answer for a long moment, almost long enough that I didn't think he was going to. 

“I thought I might as well.” He said, not looking back at me. He almost looked uncomfortable as he spoke. “You were... interesting. With Talised.” He said, clarifying. We'd only met the once by then-- not counting the rocket launcher incident. “And then you...” He trailed off. Technically he'd never taken credit for that sniper attack.

I kept my face flat. “Avoided 12 bullets and a rocket?” I finished for him. My voice fully bitter as I looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He barked a laugh then, shrugging my accusation off but nodding his head. He stilled slowly, focusing on the glass in front of him again. He shifted, obviously not used to talking like this. 

“I thought you deserved a chance.” He said. Shrugging, as if that was all there was too it.

I studied him. I hadn't felt like I'd done anything interesting that night with Talised. None of us had really even done anything in the first place. The mission was a bust, the barghest had been dead already-- we'd just wandered around an empty building for a few hours. Not to mention Garrick already knew exactly what had happened because he'd been there when the barghest was killed. I always thought we must have looked like a bunch of morons to him.

As for the rocket launcher... alright it was pretty amazing. I'd avoided everything he'd thrown at me that day. But I'm a diviner, seeing things coming is sort of our thing.

Garrick cleared his throat, slipping into his more usual droll tone. “At the very least I wanted to give an ass as fine of yours a shot at coming out of that mess in one piece.”

I'm glad I wasn't actually drinking my drink at that point, because choking on alcohol is decidedly unpleasant. As it was, I had a bad enough time choking on my own tongue.

When I finished coughing I tried to regain some of my composure. I don't get hit on that much, if you can believe it. Shockingly, my infinite wardrobe of jumpers and t-shirts doesn't exactly have people banging down my door. My idea of a good haircut is when I can hack off the hair flopping down into my eyes without too much of a mess.

I looked over at Garrick. This is not how I had envisioned this evening going in any way, shape, or form. He was still relaxed, still as graceful as ever, looking more amused than he had so far.

As I recovered and took another sip of my drink he leaned over, directly into my personal space now, keeping his voice low.

“I may have lied when I said you weren't my type.” He shrugged, mock-sheepishly as he leaned back onto his own stool. He watched me try to get it back together, shit-eating grin firmly in place as I tried to stop myself flushing pink. 

Well, pink-er.

I cleared my throat, the muscles in my neck working to keep me from coughing again. “Is that why you came here tonight?” I finally asked, my voice rough from the sputtering.

Garrick shrugged, more distant. “It's not often I meet someone I really respect.” He took another sip of his drink. Finishing it off. “The mages certainly don't give you enough credit, so.” He shrugged again, letting the sentence peter off.

I just stared at him. My blush had faded, but I was still off balance. I had never expected to see Garrick again, much less have him show up to get a drink. And if you'd told me he was going to show up for a drink and tell me he liked my ass, I would have called 999 for you on the spot.

I pushed my hair out of my face once again and let my hand trail down the back of my neck. I took a deep breath, letting it out as a sort of choked laugh.

“So...” I turned towards Garrick fully now. “You followed me in here tonight...” I was the one grinning now. “To tell me you liked me?” I was shaking my head slightly at the ridiculousness of it all.

Garrick regarded me cooly. “Guess I did.” He said, turning away from the bar and popping a few peanuts into his mouth from the little bowl on his other side. He leaned back on his elbows. Regarding the room casually, as if this was the first time he was noticing it.

I felt a flash of annoyance. I was usually pretty good at getting under people's skin. Especially when I was actually trying. It's no fun to tease someone who just goes along with what you say. It made me feel like I was missing something, and I don't like feeling clueless. Garrick was consistently making me feel at sea. I huffed a little, hair falling back over my forehead as I turned back towards my drink.

Before I could raise the glass Garrick was back in my space. He had moved so fast I'd barely had time to turn towards him before his face was right in front of mine.

I felt a spike of adrenaline, but my precognition hadn't gone off, so-- Garrick's hand came up and pushed roughly into the mop of dark hair towards the left side of my face. 

He pulled the wiry strands up and out of my eyes as his rough palm pushed forward over my scalp. He was moving slowly, deliberately. His hand dragged around the back of my head, and down, until it was resting on the back of my neck. He didn't move, just stared at me, his bright blue eyes sharp and focused in the dim light of the bar.

“You,” He said. “Need a haircut.” his voice was quiet. It felt like we'd sat there for eons before he said it.

He dropped his hand, stepping back and settling onto his stool once again like nothing had happened. I let go of the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, my heart pounding in my throat. I tried to swallow, my mouth suddenly very dry.

I turned back to my drink in a hurry, feeling an embarrassingly violent flush flood through my entire body. Jesus. It had been a really long time since anyone had touched me like that. 

Not to say I don't ever gat laid-- I mean it's usually few and far between, but I'd actually slept with someone fairly recently. True she'd turned out to be a manipulative enchantress who couldn't actually give a rat's ass about me, but still. She'd been really, really hot. 

So I wasn't just touch starved-- it was the way Garrick had done it. Calm, controlled, reminding you of the power behind it with every movement.

If he'd wanted to he could have grabbed my by the hair and brained me on the bar in a second.

I shivered, feeling like every single one of my hairs were standing on edge. I hazarded a glance at Garrick out of the corner of my eye. He looked as nonchalant as ever. Poised on the bar like he hadn't just set off every alarm in my body.

I scanned the futures, trying to see what he would do next-- so at least I wouldn't have to stand there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot next time. I looked for another moment where he'd get in my face, try and push my buttons, but there... wasn't one. There wasn't any future I could see where Garrick did anything but loll around for a while and then pay for our drinks and leave.

I sighed in frustration. The only thing I could see in the futures was a huge, glaring branch. On one side Garrick and I chatted for a bit longer and then went our separate ways, and on the other... I stopped looking abruptly.

So it was up to me. 

I finished the rest of my drink. I was feeling it by now, a warm heat pooling in my belly and giving me that pleasant, light headed feeling. I wasn't drunk, by any means-- which was actually a bit of a shame. If I was drunk then I could make this decision and blame it on the whiskey tomorrow.

I waved the barman over. “You got a cigarette I could buy off you?” I knew he did. Even without my diviner's sight I'd seen him out the back a few times with one of the bus boys. He still didn't speak, just fished the well worn pack of Mayfairs out of his jeans and handed one to me. 

I gave him a nod of thanks and hopped off the stool, not looking at Garrick as I took a step towards the backdoor.

“Oy.” The barman tapped on the bar to get my attention. I looked up in time for him to slide a little matchbook towards me.

“Ah, right.” I said. I scooped the book up off the bar in a rush. Suddenly needing to get out into the fresh air. “Thanks.”

I slipped though the back of the bar and out into the alleyway. The cool night air was chilly, but between the hot whiskey in my stomach and the lingering warmth of the bar it didn't bother me. It felt like a goddamn balm actually, the cold rolling over my flushed skin like a soft blanket. I took a deep breath.

It took me a minute to remember the cigarette. I'm not really a smoker anymore, one of the many things I gave up when I became Richard's apprentice. I didn't really want to start the habit again, but I missed the moments of calm they gave you.

I needed some calm reflecting right now. Garrick had rattled me. He was just so unexpected. Admittedly diviners are generally pretty good at dealing with the unexpected, and I'm no exception-- but I was used to dealing with unexpected bullets and murderous constructs, not unexpected advances.

I took a moment to really think about it. Garrick was attractive. More than that I was attracted to him. No denying that now. If I did... act on it I'm sure we'd have a good time. My brain shot back to the memory of that hand in my hair, the rough skin of his palm scraping against my forehead and he dragged his hand through my hair-- no, absolutely none of that. Jesus. 

Maybe I was sort of touch starved.

I held up my hand around the match as it flared to life, pressing the end of the cigarette into the flame and taking a deep drag of it when it caught. I let my breath out slowly. I didn't trust Garrick. He'd nearly killed me for goodness sake! I snorted in frustration. I really needed to get laid more if I was so desperate I was looking at a man who'd shot at me with a rocket launcher.

I took another drag, focusing on the feeling of it filling my lungs. I felt calmer out here, less overwhelmed. Scanning the futures I knew Garrick wouldn't leave until I went in or he met me out here. This was so nuts. Luna would be absolutely scandalized if she found out what I was thinking about right now.

Unbidden the memory of that hand came back, and I shivered, remembering the feeling of it resting on the back of my neck. Of Garrick's pale blue eyes boring into mine.

“It's not often I meet someone I really respect.”

Garrick's words drifted through my head as I blew smoke up towards the sky. I didn't trust Garrick. But then again... Garrick was a mercenary. He had no loyalties to the Council, and he wasn't like Meredith. He wouldn't sleep with me to further his own ends. I was quite sure any ends he had to further he would take care of on his own. We were similar in a lot of ways.

I heard the door behind me open softly. I might not have caught it if I hadn't had to train myself to react to the smallest sounds from an early age. Also, my diviner's sight helps.

Garrick came up beside me softly, moving as languidly and surely as he always did. He didn't say anything, just slowly reached into his jacket and drew out his phone, tapping away at it lazily.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He didn't act like he was trying to get me into bed. In some ways it'd be easier if he had. If he'd hit on me and pushed me it would have been easy to say no. As it was, he'd shown me what he was offering, and was now content to wait until I'd made my decision.

Damn cocksure bastard.

I let out another cloud of cigarette smoke, flicking the ashes onto the pavement.

“Spare a drag?” He said. His voice was low, unhurried. I handed the half-burned dart over silently. Watching him situate it between his long fingers and then bring it up to his lips. 

He was framed by the building lights behind him. The rim light catching in his sandy hair and outlining him in gold. His skin was tan and criss crossed with scars, not as many as I'd expect for someone so sure of himself in combat.

He let out a long breath, the smoke trailing from his mouth and catching the light as it drifted up and dissipated. He handed the cigarette back over to me with a sidelong glance and what I was beginning to think of as his trademark wolfish grin.

“So, diviner.” He said as I took the fag back. “What do you see in my future tonight?”

My mouth had gone a little dry again, so I put the cigarette in my mouth and took a long, long drag.

I'd already made a decision. Honestly my decision was made the moment he'd pushed his fingers into my hair.

I've always liked men. I generally go more for women, but when it comes down to it I'm not that choosey. My life has been a long string of running, and fighting, and hurting. There hasn't been a lot of time for anything in between, so when it comes I've generally taken what I can get.

What I usually get is people looking for me to take charge. I'm tall, and fairly fit, so it's not a surprise that the people who are into me generally want me to be the driver, as it were. I have no problem with that, I like it-- I'm good at it too.

But there is nothing quite like someone fucking you into oblivion.

I let my held breath out, letting all the smoke drain from my lungs and curl out into the chilly night air. I flicked the fag onto the ground and crushed it under my heel.

“Quite a lot, if you're up for it.”

ooo

Garrick's motorcycle was exactly what I'd expected. It was just like its owner, sleek and graceful, with power hiding right beneath the surface.

He'd actually pulled out a spare helmet for me, which was a bit of a surprise. I hadn't exactly pegged him for the cautious type. I took the offered helmet anyway and slipped onto the the back of the big black bike behind Garrick, hands on his shoulders.

I placed my feet in the little divots I was supposed to use-- a quick diviner scan saving me from fumbling around with my long legs more than necessary.

He put his own helmet down between his legs and then grabbed my hands and firmly pulled me forward until my arms were draped around his waist and my body was solidly pressed against his back. He leaned back and turned towards me, his face right next to mine once again.

“This isn't a cruiser.” He said, his sharp teeth even more pronounced now I was so close. I hoped he couldn't feel me flush when he'd pulled me in, and I tried to keep the buzzing tension out of my voice when I replied.

“No, a cruiser would have enough space for my damn legs.” I said. Garrick laughed at that, and it was the most open I'd seen him all evening. I tried to ignore the jolt it shot through me when I felt the muscles in his abdomen contract around the sound.

Garrick pulled on his own helmet and leaned forward, kick starting the machine beneath us with practiced ease.

As we sped off through the night I was suddenly reminded of flying with Starbreeze. The rush of colors and lights melding together under a foggy sky. It wasn't the same, this wasn't nearly as fast, and being on ground level was a decidedly different experience than flying with the air elemental. But there was something about speeding through the night air that made me think of her. I felt a pang when I thought about my focus, smashed as I fled from Belthas... and Garrick. I shook it off. 

The night was beautiful, and I really did love being in the air like this. It was comforting, in a way, to be out in the night like Starbreeze undoubtedly was somewhere. Darting in between cars and the big, double decker busses.

Garrick was a good driver. His movements were confident and controlled. He treated the road more like a stuntman's obstacle course, where the road signs were like guidelines you obeyed only when it suited you. I don't think he was doing it to show off-- or if he was, I couldn't tell. I had a feeling that's just sort of how he did things.

I thought about the man I was clinging to. I felt a little bit like a 50's schoolgirl in an American film, whisked off by a bad boy on a big black motorbike. I snorted at the thought. I was no schoolgirl.

I adjusted my arms around Garrick's torso. He'd left his jacket unzipped-- it wasn't cold enough to need the protection quite yet, though at speed the wind did have a bite to it. I let my left arm drift up where it was wrapped around him, under his leather jacket and against the soft cotton of his henley. I let my palm rest against his ribs, just under his pectoral muscle, pressing gently into the flesh there and dragging my hand across so that my fingers just barely brushed the soft skin near his nipple.

I felt him tense. His abdominal muscles moving as he took a sharp breath. I grinned into his back where I was trying to keep my face out of the brisk wind. 

I moved my other hand. This time letting it drift down Garrick's left side. I kept my touch light, just skating over his shirt as I let my hand drop slowly to the edge of his trousers. He tensed again, just a little. My hand was off to the side, my palm over the top of his obliques. I let it hover there for a moment before I slipped the tips of my fingers underneath his shirt to trace the barest line of flesh between the tops of his trousers and the edge of the henley.

Garrick was controlling his movements more now he was ready for what I was doing, but he still shivered involuntarily as my fingers dipped lower and I dragged them across the front of his body. It was just up to the first knuckle that I'd pushed into the top of his trousers, but it was enough.

His breathing didn't hitch, but I felt it pick up as the flesh across his lower abdomen twitched. My own heart was hammering away in my chest. I belatedly hoped he couldn't feel it through the leather jacket over his back. This shouldn't be quite so exciting, not yet, anyway.

I know it's probably not the best idea to distract a man who's controlling the machine that's the only thing between you and a quick, violent death; but I felt like I needed to get some of my own back. Plus my diviner's sight should keep us out of any dire accidents.

Speaking of my diviner's sight... something flashed in my precognition and I tightened my arms around Garrick's middle.

“Garrick!” I shouted to get his attention. “You're going to want to stop at the next amber light-- don't speed through!” I was trying to yell over the rushing wind. It was hard to hear anything in these helmets but I was right next to him and he gave me a quick nod as he pulled the bike up short, turning it sideways and skidding a bit into the crosswalk before it settled.

Just as it did, a black sports car came barreling in from the opposite direction, blasting through the intersection from the opposite way. If Garrick hadn't heeded my warning and pushed through the amber light-- as all good Londoners are wont to do-- that car would have certainly clipped us, if not taken us out full on.

I felt Garrick take a quick glance back at me before the light turned green and we were off again.

ooo

Garrick lived off Charterhouse Square. It was definitely the nicest building in the area, but for someone who'd been getting paychecks from the light Council, it was pretty modest.

He pulled into the parking garage of his building and killed the motor, pulling off his helmet and swinging his leg over the bike with a simple grace I would never be able to match. I got my helmet off without much fuss, and I reached up to try and push down the mess that it had most definitely made of my hair.

Suddenly Garrick was in front of me, catching my wrist with one hand and pushing my hair back with his other. The force of his push dragged my head up too, and then his lips were on mine, crashing down onto me like a tidal wave. I gasped a little, at the shock of it. He'd been so relaxed before I hadn't expected the intensity of it right out of the gate.

I responded to the kiss, after a moment-- but Garrick broke off, not moving his head away.

“You can backseat drive anytime.” His voice was deep, almost a growl in his throat, but his eyes were brighter then ever as he grinned at me. I wasn't sure if he was referring to the potential splattering I'd saved us from, or what I'd been doing before the almost-accident. I didn't ask.

Garrick pulled me off the back of the bike, taking the extra helmet and stowing it away where he'd gotten it from. After the intensity of that kiss I'd half expected him to throw me over his shoulder and take me upstairs. The quiet methodical way he locked down his bike was in stark contrast with the way he'd grabbed me. A little thrill shot through me at the thought that I had no real idea of what to expect next. 

I most decidedly did not look. It feels a little weird to use my diviner's sight for this kind of thing. Potentially it could really help me say all the right things to win over a date, but watching a hundred variations of someone in the throes of passion makes it a bit hard to keep up a regular conversation afterwards.

Garrick led me to the elevator into his building. Unlocking the gate and punching in his floor. It was the top floor I noticed idly. I guess all that Council money wasn't going to waste.

The elevator rumbled upwards, and I half expected the ride to start with another desperate kiss. Once again Garrick surprised me. We stood in comfortable silence. Well comfortable for him anyway. My brain was screaming at me to search the futures. It was habit to do it whenever I had a bit of downtime, and it made me antsy not to.

Garrick surprised me again when we got into his apartment. It was nice, minimalist. Again, it was exactly like its owner. Everything put away, organized, controlled. Even so it was quite nice, and even as bare as it was it didn't feel sterile.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Garrick asked, slipping out of his jacket and hanging it up in the hall closet before motioning for me to follow him through to the main living area. It was a big open room, it took up most of the apartment, and there was only a bar separating it from the full kitchen where Garrick was.

“I'm alright thanks.” I stepped forward and took a cursory glance around, seeing if I could find anything telling. I couldn't. “If I drink anymore I'll just fall asleep.” I poked through a bookshelf on the far wall. It didn't really have anything too revealing, lots of classics-- Shakespeare, mostly, which I found interesting. Lots of manuals too, which made more sense. A few sci fi books I'd actually heard of, but hadn't read.

I generally stick to nonfiction or historical fiction. Sci fi and fantasy are my daily life, I don't really need it in my literary one too. Although I did enjoy all the magical creatures in Tolkein's work.

Garrick appeared beside me and handed me a glass of water. I took it, grateful though I hadn't asked for it.

We stood there for a moment. I downed about half the water in a few gulps. I always forget how much alcohol dehydrates me. Not to mention all the sweating I'd been doing around Garrick this evening.

He was drinking what I thought at first was wine, but it didn't smell like alcohol. Cranberry juice maybe? The mysteries just piled on.

“You can still leave, you know.” Garrick said after another minute went by. I looked at him sharply.

“What?”

“You can change your mind-- I'll take you home if you want.” He said, glancing over at me, face inscrutable. I blinked at him.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked. I felt like I was supposed to be getting some kind of hint.

“No.” He said, frowning at me slightly. “I would very, very much like to fuck you, actually.” His mouth twitched up a little when I jerked. The words like to fuck you sort of echoed around my head for a bit before I pulled myself back to the present.

“Umm. Yep.” My voice came out a little hoarser than I'd have liked. “That is... why I'm here.”

Garrick raised his eyebrows at me and then let out a soft laugh as he shook his head. He stepped back, making his way towards the black leather couch opposite the bookshelf. I watched him go, a little confused and feeling more awkward by the second.

The way Garrick had been in the bar and downstairs I hadn't really expected a nice chat before we got to business. I was out of my element here. 

The nasty little voice inside my head snidely asked if I was ever in my element. I hushed it and followed Garrick to the couch.

“You don't really relax, do you?” He said as I sat down gingerly. I gave him a look.

“No one who has shot so many bullets at me is allowed to comment on my edginess.” I said. His mouth twitched into his wolf grin again.

“Fair.” He said, leaning forward to set his glass on the coffee table. “But I'm not going to shoot at you tonight.” He leaned back, propping his head up on his hand again. “Not that it'd do much good anyway.” He smiled at me again, a softer smile, the closest to a real smile I'd seen from him yet. 

Jesus. He really was a handsome devil.

I leaned back too, willing myself to relax. I ran a hand through my hair absently, and noticed how Garrick's eyes flicked up to the action. I turned back to him, looking at him more fully. His expression had taken on a hungry sort of tone.

Ah. Noted.

“This just... isn't something I do.” I said after another second. “Very often.” I finished, for the sake of transparency. “Especially with a man who came very close to killing me? A few times?” My laugh was just a little too fast, too harsh.

He looked at me. “Verus.” He said. My eyes snapped up to his face. The wolf grin was gone, but the eyes were just as intense. 

“I'm going to say this again:” He wasn't leaning back anymore. He was right in front of me, but not infringing on my space. “You can leave at any point. I'm not going to hurt you, this isn't a trap.”

I shook my head, frowning. “I know that.” I said. And I did. My precognition was clear, there was no violence in my future as far as I could see.

Garrick sighed. “I guess our history isn't exactly...” He gestured vaguely between us. He huffed. “Look. I won't say I regret what I did. It was a job, a job I've historically been very good at.” He didn't have any trouble meeting my eyes. I believed him. And on some level I really did understand.

“Going up against you was a rush, a challenge-- but more than that it was a lesson.” He took a breath. “One I hadn't had in a long time.”

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Don't use bullets against a diviner with long legs?” I said.

He grinned again, shaking his head. “There's always someone better than you.” 

I frowned a little at that. “You... think I'm better than you?” I tried to parse the thought.

Garrick raised his eyebrows at me. 

I wasn't better than, well, anyone. As far as mages go I was the weakest of the lot. Garrick had come a lot closer to killing me than I had to killing him, and he wasn't a diviner.

Garrick took a deep breath, looking a little put upon. “I'm attracted to you because you walloped me.” He said, giving me a sort of exasperated smile. “And not just because you're a mage. Magic is a tool, and your real expertise is in how you apply it.” He gave me a measured look. 

“You're good at the same things I am. Planning, knowledge. Knowing how to prepare for a fight.” He leaned back. “I respect you for that, not your magic.”

He held my eyes for a moment before I broke away and reached for the water glass I'd left on the table. I wasn't really used to being valued for anything other than my diviner's sight. Mages traded in power, and that was the only kind I laid any claim to. I realized, irritably, that I'd blushed a little at Garrick's unexpected compliment. Maybe I really was a schoolgirl.

“Well that, and your aforementioned stellar ass.” Garrick said suddenly. “Although respect isn't exactly the emotion it instills in me.”

This time I was drinking, so the choking was more of a spit-take. I din't get any on Garrick, which was a small miracle, especially with my luck the way it'd been.

Garrick patted me on the back as I coughed, his shit-eating grin dispelling any of the good will he might have otherwise garnered from the gesture.

“That's never gonna get old.” He said, sounding pleased with himself.

I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve. “I thought you said you weren't going to try and kill me tonight.” I said, grumpily. My voice was rough. Garrick had moved next to me while I was hunched over to cough, and his hand was still on my back. He'd stopped patting to rub lazy circles over my shoulder blades.

He made a thoughtful sound, his head close to mine. “Kill you... no.” He said. His voice was deep and soft, rumbling out of his chest. I was still leant over slightly, so when he tipped his head down his mouth was close to my ear. “There are a lot of better things to do with you.”

That sentence bypassed my brain and went straight down between my legs. I could just feel the movement of Garrick's breath on my neck, and that, combined with the pressure of his hand on my back made all my hair stand on end. 

Jesus.

Whatever the reason, whatever our history, some part of my poor, traumatized lizard brain looked at Garrick, a man who'd tried, and very nearly succeeded, to kill me, and said: “Mmmhmm yes please.” 

And I was done for.

I turned my head towards him, leaning up slightly as my hand found its way to his left thigh. This time I was the one who pushed into the kiss, catching his mouth before he could back away. I slid my hand up his leg, and snaked the other one around the back of his neck, holding him against me whether he wanted to be there or not.

I tested his strength, not giving him a chance to adjust to the kiss before pushing him farther, back into the couch, swinging one of my long legs over to settle into his lap.

He gasped against my mouth as I pulled him again, grinding my hips down and yanking his head up to meet me. I was significantly taller than Garrick, so it wasn't as easy as it might have been. I didn't care. I wanted to push him. He'd spent all evening pushing me, and I wanted to return the favor.

I could feel him grin against me as we settled into our new position. He dragged his hands up my thighs and-- predictably-- reached around to give my ass a firm squeeze. He made an approving sound against my mouth as he palmed up over my lower back to settle at my hips. He didn't push me down, or even dig his fingers into me. He just held me, firmly, as I moved against him in hard, slow circles.

At this point I let myself search through the futures again. I didn't like to add to the awkwardness of pre-sex negotiations, but once we'd actually gotten to the act, that was a different story.

I'm... pretty fantastic in bed. And I'm not being facetious or vain. It's just that, well, I can map out an entire house with my diviner's sight in a couple of hours. It's not too hard to use my path-walking ability to suss out someone's preferences in the sack. That doesn't mean it's mind blowing, it just means that all the little missteps, all the awkwardness of two people getting to know each other's bodies is a lot... less, when I'm involved. I can sort of figure out what people want before they have to say it. Which doesn't sound like much, but makes a lot of difference when you're fucking someone you've never fucked before.

Garrick was holding himself back. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt me or anything. He just didn't know what my boundaries were, and in light of the tense way I'd received him, he was being especially cautious. It was kind of endearing, to see him being so careful with me. But if I wanted someone careful, I wouldn't have come home with Garrick.

I shoved him back, probably a little harder than necessary. We were both breathing heavier now, the declaration of our mutual interest evident where we were pressed together. Garrick let himself be held back, pushed into the cushions of the couch, eyes flashing up at me darkly.

He shifted, canting his hips up and pushing down on my hips with more intent this time. I anticipated his movement and leaned my hips over to the side, letting my weight rest on my folded knee, avoiding his play to push me down onto his lap again. He let out a breath, watching my face like a cat watches a canary. He was starting to catch onto what the play was now.

I looked down at him from my full height, dragging one of my hands down his chest slowly over his shirt. He didn't react visibly when my palm passed over his right nipple but I could feel his muscles twitch as my hand pushed lower. I let my other hand drag up his chest, making sure my fingers brushed his other nipple too. I pushed the palm of my hand into the muscles at his shoulder, the base of his neck, slowly working my way up and into his hair this time.

He didn't have as much of it to work with as I did, but it was a little longer than I remembered, and I could still get enough of a purchase in it to be satisfying. I pulled his head back, yanking on his hair roughly.

Garrick actually growled as his head snapped onto the headrest of the couch, his eyes flashing up at me and his hands digging into my flanks with a jerk. I realized I was grinning as I leaned over him and held him by the hair. He watched me actively as I dipped forward to let my lips trail down the straining muscles at the side of his neck. I could feel his pulse beating, the pace matching my own as I forced myself to slow down even more.

I knew from my future vision that Garrick was waiting to strike. He was a patient man, until he was presented with a more efficient strategy. I tongued along a faint scar that ran down towards his collar bone, pausing to worry the flesh a little bit with my teeth. Garrick made another sound deep in his chest. I shifted my weight surreptitiously and let the hand holding his hair loosen, just a little. 

He was moving in an instant, shaking my hand off and pushing forward with his body, trying to twist me at the hips and pin me onto the couch beneath him. I didn't let him get that far. I'd moved my free leg onto the ground behind me, giving me the leverage to pull back from his grasp and avoid his play. I stumbled a little as I pushed away from the couch.

Garrick barely took the time to register I'd broken free from him before he pushed off the couch after me. I'd gotten my footing back and my diviner's sight meant I didn't need to look behind me to avoid the edge of the coffee table. I spun away, trying to put a little distance between us and the couch so I could move more freely.

I didn't have the chance to get completely away, Garrick was fast-- almost as fast as me, and he caught my jumper and yanked me off balance again, catching my arm and pulling it up and behind me before I could avoid it.

I didn't even pause in my movement, I let him haul me back, letting him hold my weight as I regained my footing, and then brought my other elbow up to aim a serious blow at his face. He blocked it, letting go of my other wrist and redirecting the strike with easy grace. He used the momentum of his push to come towards me from the other side, now we were facing each other again. 

Garrick was easily stronger than me. He wasn't bulky by any means, but he was ripped where I was wiry, I didn't really stand much of a chance in a straight strength contest.

I tried to pull back again, but he kept us close. I realized in the back of my mind he'd never really seen me fight. A little bit of a scuffle back in Arachne's cave, but he was closing the distance out of instinct. He knew that the more time I had to think and plan, the better off I'd be. 

He reached for me, but my precognition flashed and showed me what it was, a feint. He was going to use his momentum to get behind me again. I went with the feint, but when he ducked to get behind me I spun with him, pushing my hands into his shoulder and adding my weight to the direction he was already going. He fell hard, but it was a practiced fall, and he almost rolled back up onto his knees.

It would have been a beautiful move, except that I'd seen it, and I'd dropped on top of him before he could get halfway through, pinning him to the ground with my weight and a firm hand on his throat. He stopped moving. Holding his hands out to his sides as he looked up at me.

We were both breathing hard. It wasn't that much of an exertion, but combined with the tension of the kissing and the baseline tension of the situation, we were both keyed up. We didn't talk for a long minute. I didn't relax my hand on his throat and he held himself perfectly still, watching me.

“I...” I said finally, my voice rough and a little deeper than usual. “Want you to fuck me.” I said. Not looking away from Garrick's eyes. The color was harder to make out in the half light, but I could feel his pulse quicken when I said it.

I don't exactly know why I initiated this fight. Partially it was because I knew Garrick would like it, but mostly it was for me. I wanted him to know that I could get away, that I could beat him on my own. He'd compared us before and I wanted to prove that he was right. I did want him to fuck me---desperately, but I wanted him to know that he'd only be able to if I wanted it that way.

Maybe I have some issues around being on the receiving end of things. I'm a good bottom, and while most of that is because I genuinely enjoy it, some of it I learned out of necessity. 

I loosened my hand around Garrick's throat and sat back. Letting him sit up. He did so slowly, watching me, his eyes dark and sweat dampening the hair at his temples just a little bit. He stared at me for a moment, and then, as slowly as he'd sat up, he brought his hand up to the side of my face.

I didn't move as he brushed his fingers over my cheek. His hands were calloused, but not unpleasant against the scruff of my beard. He cupped my face, as gentle as anything, just running his hand up and down my jaw, letting the pad of his thumb ghost over my bottom lip.

I felt my own heart jump then. I hadn't really expected this kind of tenderness from Garrick, and I was a little surprised to feel myself leaning into his touch. He let his hand drift back up to my hair, which was a mess and sticking out every which way. He leaned forward as he sank his fingers into it, pushing it back slowly, pulling at my scalp as he did.

I sighed heavily as he continued. I spent a lot of time carding my hands through my own hair to get it out of my face, but the tug of Garrick's fingers through the tangles was something else entirely. He leaned closer to me, bringing up his other hand to do the same thing on the opposite side of my head. 

I closed the distance between us, kissing him thoroughly. He kept the kiss soft, pulling back slightly and not matching my strength when I tried to deepen it. I kept up with him and snaked my hands down to his waist, slipping my fingers under his shirt and dragging my hands over the tense flesh of his abdomen, hiking the shirt up as I did.

He didn't pull back from my mouth, but he let go of my hair and grabbed the edges of the henley where it was bunched up around my wrists, pulling it over his head and off with a quick motion that barely interrupted our movement.

Garrick was even more well-muscled than I'd expected. I'm no slouch when it comes to fitness, but he had abs for days. I ran my fingers over them experimentally. I eat way too many empty carbs to ever get definition like this-- but you can pry bread from my cold, dead, British fingers.

Garrick grinned up at me, hitching his own fingers under my jumper and t-shirt and tugging them up. I leaned back and pulled them both over my head, dropping them to the side without a second glance. Not that I'd've had time for one. Garrick took me by the hips as I lifted the shirt, and as soon as I'd pulled it up he'd flipped me around and pushed me down to the floor. 

He held himself above me, flicking an appreciative glance down my torso. I hoped he couldn't see me blush in the half light, but it was probably a moot point by now.

Garrick braced himself on an elbow, using his free hand to skate up my side and then back down. His touch was light, the rough texture of his hands skimming over my sensitive skin and making me twitch. It was just shy of being ticklish at some points.

Garrick's other hand fisted gently in my hair, pulling my head up and to the side, exposing my neck. My heart hammered in my chest as he bent down to suck gently at the flesh just below my jawline. I bit back a moan, managing to just take a sharp breath in through my nose instead.

Garrick slowly lowered his hips down onto mine, still holding himself up so his arm could roam my torso freely, but letting some of his weight brace there in the tangle of our legs. I made a sort of strangled sound when he pushed up against my hips with his right thigh. We were both still in our trousers but the friction was delicious.

I tried to grind up against him more forcefully, but the weight of his lower body pinned me down. I writhed a little, seeing if I could get a purchase, but Garrick didn't move his hips again. He did however, drag his hand over my chest. Thus far he'd avoided my nipples, but now he was dragging the calloused pad of his thumb over one of them. I couldn't stop the ragged moan this time.

Looks like Garrick didn't need future vision to find my weaknesses. He proceeded to trail his fingers over my skin inch by agonizing inch. He let go of my hair and eventually brought his mouth down to join in exploration. He touched me lightly in waves, sometimes pushing me almost to the point of overstimulation, and then he'd bring his lips and tongue and teeth in to bite down on the areas that made me writhe and swear breathlessly.

I don't know how long it went on, but by the time he'd pulled his mouth off of my right nipple I was a sweaty, shaking mess. 

I'm sensitive to touch on a good day, but now, my whole body felt like a live wire-- every brush of Garrick's skin against mine like a spark. I took a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself a little. Garrick kissed me again, leaning off my hips and pulling me up with him as he sat back on his knees. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he pulled me into his lap, my long legs wrapping around him loosely.

His hands drifted over my backside as he drew me up, lazily pushing at the flesh there and cupping the base of my ass fondly. He sighed into my hair as he held me, his hand dragging up from my thigh and pushing towards my center. I squirmed against him, squeezing with my legs and dragging my nails up his back to try and communicate my impatience. 

He gasped as I did that, arching his back and clamping his arms around me reflexively. The sound he made was downright obscene.

I'd known it would get a satisfying reaction. It was the least I could do after he turned me into a giant shivering mess like that.

He legitimately growled at that point, biting into my neck under my ear a little harder than he had before. I squeezed down with my legs again, almost hard enough to be painful, and fisted my hands in his dirty blonde hair.

I was about to say something along the lines of “Get on with it”, or-- more likely-- “Please dear god fuck me before I climb out of my own skin.” But before I could he was leaning forward, pushing up off the ground to standing like it was nothing.

It most certainly was not nothing. I'm not small, and though I'm thin, I'm also dense. So for Garrick to pick me up like a gangly princess just like that, well, if I wasn't absolutely rock hard already, that would have done a lot to get me there. I don't think I'd ever been manhandled quite like this. It was thrilling.

Garrick grinned up at me as I looked down in surprise, giving me a sharp pinch where his hands were wrapped around my ass.

“Ow!” I said, glaring at him.

He leaned forward to kiss me as he started to walk forward, staggering towards the bedroom. He managed to avoid tripping over anything or banging my head into the doorframe-- though that last part had mostly been thanks to my precognition and a well timed duck forwards. 

As we made it into the bedroom I finally got to see it with my actual eyes, not just my diviner's sight. It was like the rest of the apartment, tidy, simple. A queen sized bed with a big black headboard and soft city light gently coming in from the balcony.

Garrick dropped me down gently on the edge of the bed. I let go of his neck and let myself fall into the soft dark duvet. Garrick stood at my waist, hands still wrapped around my thighs. I'm sure I looked a downright mess, but he was watching me hungrily. He let his hands trail down my long legs, pulling off my shoes and socks with only minor fumbling. They weren't really shoes you were meant to just slip out of but Garrick was pretty insistent.

When he was done he stepped toward me again, his hands following and skimming up my legs the way they'd come. The light touches were maddening once again and I arched my back and hips up to meet him.

Garrick's hands trailed up and over my thighs and came to rest on my lower stomach, trailing along the top of my trousers. He unbuckled my belt-- annoying slowly, and my mouth went dry as he drew it out in one long, languid pull.

His other hand was already undoing the button, and by the time the belt clattered to the floor he was halfway done with the zip and starting to yank the trousers down and off my narrow hips. I wriggled back a little to help him, and as my cock sprang free I wanted to cry in relief. I felt like I'd been hard for about 40 years.

Garrick stepped back and held my trousers and boxers still while I pulled my legs free. He let them drop where they were and I sat up to meet him as he crawled onto the bed between my legs. We moved back together, scooting onto the middle of the bed in slow maneuvers. Neither of us breaking the easy pleasure of the kiss.

Eventually we were both fully on the bed, and Garrick pushed me back onto the sheets with determined power. I let him come crashing down on me, shivering with anticipation where his skin met mine, and gasping when he slotted his thigh between my legs and let me grind myself onto him. He was still wearing his trousers, so the contact was rough. I bit back another moan.

Once again Garrick started his maddening, deliberate march down my body. His hands roamed over me and ignited my oversensitive skin all over again; and his mouth traced lines of fire down my neck and chest. I groaned in desperate frustration, his hands stroking my inner thighs and making me jerk.

Eventually-- after what felt like another 40 years, he'd kissed his way to my lower abdomen and was lazily making his way down to my aching cock. 

I had never been this hard before without being touched, so the sensation of Garrick's tongue tracing a stripe down the underside of my dick without warning made my whole body convulse. I don't know what kind of sound it drew out of me but it wasn't a human one.

Garrick was as slow and steady at this as he was everything else. His mouth was hot and his pace was even. He didn't try anything fancy but at this point just the regular pressure was enough to make me twist my fist into his hair and bury my face into my elbow. 

Eventually it was too much and started bucking my hips to match his rhythm. He pushed my hips down and pulled off of me with a filthy pop. I had a hard time holding back the discontented growl that welled out of me as he did. 

Garrick crawled back over me and pulled my arm out of my face, looking down at me, lips wet, eyes dark. He pushed my hair out of my face and left his hand tangled in it.

“You worried you'll wake up my neighbors?” He said, that half smile tinged with something carnivorous.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and looked up at him, frowning slightly, a little out of it.

“You don't need to be quiet for my sake.” He leaned down to kiss me. “I own the whole floor.” I arched up to meet him, letting my frustration and impatience bleed out into the kiss.

I hadn't really thought I was being quiet. Old habits, I guess.

I pushed Garrick hard again, hooking my leg around his and rolling him onto his back with one smooth movement. If he was surprised at the sudden turn, he didn't show it.

I pressed him back into the bedspread, holding him down while his hands settled at my waist. I didn't take my time the way he did, nor did I have a penchant for long, meandering touches. Not with Garrick anyway.

In my future vision the main thread I'd picked up was that Garrick liked to be pushed. He liked to feel my strength and sometimes he even wanted me to push it too far. I knew every spot he was especially sensitive in and I exploited my knowledge ruthlessly.

By the time I was starting to tire he was speckled with dark bruises-- teeth marks barely fading they were so deep. I'd even broken the skin a couple times. He'd had to yank me off roughly by the hair, his breathing shaky.

I bit and sucked my way lower, staying towards his flanks where I knew he was extra sensitive. I was more impatient that he had been when I got to his cock. I didn't bother to peel off his trousers I just unzipped them and pulled the elastic of his boxers down. 

Garrick was well proportioned, leaning a little towards the larger end of the spectrum. I hummed a little in satisfaction. I'm not a size queen but I like to push my limits a bit. 

Okay so I'm a little bit of a size queen.

I didn't pause or tease Garrick at this point, I just opened my mouth and started right in. Garrick twitched and I could feel the vibrations of the sound he made all the way down here. 

I set a pretty brisk pace, using my hand to cover what my mouth couldn't. Garrick's hands had drifted down to his thighs, and I'm pretty sure it was taking all he had not to grab me by the hair and fuck into my throat. So I upped the stakes, pressing forward suddenly and swallowing him down, my nose buried in the fine sandy hair at the base of his cock.

Garrick jerked, gasping at the sudden sensation. I gagged a little, this wasn't easy-- but blowjobs are something I know I'm really good at. I stayed there, working my throat around him and relaxing around the intrusion as much as I could.

Garrick's hands twitched, his right coming up to drift over my head and press down lightly on my hair. He didn't tangle his fingers into it yet. I slid him out of my throat and moved my head off of him completely. He grunted as I moved, hand twitching halfway to a fist before he forced himself to relax.

I looked up at him then, grinning my own sharp smile as I tightened my hand around the base of his shaft. I squeezed to the point of discomfort and then put my mouth around him again. This time I did tease. I bobbed forward, letting my hand drop, but I went slow, and I only pushed to the point of swallowing him down, never past it.

Garrick started to tense under me, growling when I wouldn't push further even through he knew I could. His hand started to fist into my hair, his hips writhing beneath me. I pushed down and dragged up again, letting my teeth run over his soft flesh. That got my hair yanked. He didn't pull me off, but he held me still, breathing hard and staring down at me.

I met his gaze, waiting for him to catch on and fuck up into my mouth. I let my hands move up and settle on his hips, giving him a tug towards me as a hint. I saw his eyebrows go up for a second before he pushed me down, hard.

I didn't choke, I knew it had been coming. I let him drag me all the way down onto his cock, swallowing it. It was messy, my salivary glands were going nuts and saliva was dripping everywhere now. 

Garrick's other hand came up around the back of my head, gripping me harshly as he thrust up into my mouth. He wasn't violent about it, he wasn't trying to make me choke, and my hands on his hips would be enough to stop him if I needed to. I didn't. 

I let him fuck up into me, the rough sounds dragging from his chest making my own cock twitch. Eventually it became overwhelming, and he pulled me off harshly and jerked back, like he was tearing himself away against his will. 

I wiped my mouth on the back of my arm. I really had made a mess. I looked up at Garrick. He was watching me like he wanted to devour me alive. It sent a thrill through me.

Garrick dragged me up with the hand at the back of my head. It was a little clumsy, I had to scrabble a little with my hands, but it didn't matter when he caught my mouth with his. The kiss was sloppy, more hungry than the ones before it and as he kissed me he pushed me onto my back again. 

I let him push me down, and then suddenly he flipped me again by the shoulder, pushing me face first into the bed. He was still close to me, his nose buried in the hair behind my ear. The hand on my shoulder dragged down my body roughly, gripping at my ass as he pushed his hand between my legs.

I made a sort of strangled sound, mostly muffled by the bed, which was probably for the best.

“Alex.” Garrick's mouth was still right by my ear. The use of my first name and the ragged edge of his voice made me break out in goosebumps. 

“I'm going to fuck you.” 

I shuddered. The hand between my legs was pushing at me in slow deliberate circles.

Suddenly he pushed away from my back, and I heard the soft whirr of a drawer opening in the bedside table. His hand didn't leave my ass until I heard the tell-tale rip of a condom wrapper and a click as he opened a bottle of lube. My dick twitched at the sound, impatient once again.

I stayed where I was, shifting only slightly up onto my elbows instead of letting my head rest on the pillows. I'm sure I'd be back there before long anyway. 

The lube was cold where Garrick dripped it onto me and I yelped and jerked in surprise.

“Hey! You--” I jerked again. “--Fuck!” Garrick had put the condom over his middle finger, and he was dragging it up from my dick to my asshole, pushing down hard on my flesh. He circled my entrance, pressing forward and then letting off, waiting for me to relax. 

I took a deep breath and let my shoulders and head drop. Garrick pushed forward into me with one smooth push. I gasped as he started to move in and out of me, his finger curling to just barely skim the area around my prostate. He wasn't going as slow as he'd gone before. I think he was starting to get impatient too. Good.

He added a second finger and I swore again. I'd been so hard for so long that the sensation of anything finally fucking into me was making my skin buzz with tension.

Garrick kept up like that until I was chasing after his fingers with my body, trying to fuck myself faster. He added a third finger and I tried not to whine as he kept the same pace as before. Finally he was really starting to open me up though, spreading his fingers inside me and making me absolutely writhe on the end of them.

“Fuck me already!” I finally ground out between gasps. I like some good fingering as much as the next person but Garrick had dragged this out decidedly too long. At this rate it was going to be light out before I'd even taken a dick.

I turned my head and glared at him over my shoulder, pushing my hips back and grinding into him. He growled as I did and I could feel his dick twitch. Garrick pushed me forward roughly, squeezing my ass and twisting his fingers down to push at my prostate.

I actually keened, my body convulsing against him as my head dropped back between my shoulders. I gasped.

“Garrick--!”

He pulled his fingers out of me then and my hips canted back on their own, chasing the sensation. He steadied me with his free hand, pressing into my lower back.

I could hear the lube click shut again, and the incessant heat in my belly flared up and sent a shot through my whole body. It had been a long time since anyone has fucked me like this, and an even longer time since I'd been so keyed up and ready for it.

Garrick leaned forward and pressed his erection against me, grinding in between my ass cheeks while he bent over me and ran a hand up my back. I matched his movements, feeling the weight and girth of him, the rough texture of his trousers rubbing on my skin.

Finally he pulled back a little and let his other hand line up his cock with my entrance. He pushed into me in increments, letting me adjust to his size as he went. I took deep breaths, keeping myself relaxed. 

Jesus, he really was big. I was suddenly glad he'd taken the extra time with his fingers.

Suddenly he was in, his hips flush with mine, grinding against me in slow circles. I let out the breath I'd been holding, the sound guttural and obscene.

Garrick didn't move immediately. He leaned back, letting his hands rest on my hips, pulling out of me in slow, shallow thrusts, not really holding me too firmly. I grunted, still impatient. I tried to pull off farther, to deepen his movement, but his hands clamped down on me and he held me still.

I made a frustrated, animal sound-- fisting my hands into the duvet cover and arching my back. Slowly-- always slowly! Garrick started to deepen his thrusts until he was coming almost all the way out of me before pushing back in.

My heart was pounding in my ears, I could feel my blood rushing. I reached forward, my hand splaying out on the headboard to brace me as Garrick upped his pace. I scrabbled at the wood there, eventually bringing up my other hand to hold on the the edge of the piece.

I could hear Garrick's breath, coming hard and fast as he moved against me. I sucked in a shuddering breath of my own, clutching at the headboard as Garrick's hand came up to the back of my neck. I gasped as he held me there, the hard slap of his hips against mine sounding too loud in the quiet night.

He fucked me like that for what felt like an eternity. Eventually his other hand snaked up my back and he pulled my head up by the hair. I think I screamed then, any trace of dignity I had left gone out the window.

He fucked me like that forever. His hand fisted into my hair and his other hand pulling my hips back against his cock. I shuddered and moaned, each thrust shaking some new sound out of me. He upped his pace again at some point, bringing up both his arms to grip my shoulders, the extra leverage sending him pounding into me and making the entire bed shake.

Eventually my arms started to tremble, and Garrick dropped my shoulders and let me sink down to bury my head in the duvet. His pace was punishing-- at this rate I wasn't going to be able to sit tomorrow, much less walk. I was drooling into the sheets, and I didn't care. My body was on fire and every thrust sent a cascade of sparks through me.

At this point Garrick was draped over me, fucking me into the bed, his arm snaked around my chest to give him leverage. He was having a hard time staying quiet too, the vibrations of his voice a constant presence at my back.

He pressed his free hand under me, pressing into my chest and pinching one of my nipples, hard. I bucked against him, the sensation almost enough to send me over the edge.

“Gah--” I sucked in a staggering breath. “Garrick--”

Garrick sucked kisses along the back of my neck, grazing his teeth along my skin and biting down on the stiff place where my shoulder muscle met my neck. I convulsed again, his fingers still pushing and pinching at my chest.

I twisted around towards him, catching his mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss, my hand coming up to catch in his hair. His blue eyes met mine, hazy with pleasure and that dark hunger still drifting below the surface.

“I--” He grunted against me as his hips slammed forward. “I'm close.” He finally gasped, head drifting forward while he concentrated. Apparently what he concentrated on was torturing me, because his hand drifted up and pulled my head back again, the other purposefully worrying my chest, the other side this time.

I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. I writhed under the unrelenting pressure of his hands, his body, this hiss of his breath on the back of my neck.

“Fuck!” He gasped into my ear. “Fuck Alex--” 

I moaned when he said my name. His voice was hoarse now, breaking with the force of his starving gasps. I couldn't speak at this point, I couldn't think. There was only heat and the steady push of his body into mine.

His hand pressed into the flesh of my abdomen, scraping down until it closed over my cock. I shuddered under his touch, the rough skin of his palm sending lines of fire through my belly. I was going to come immediately if he kept touching me like that. The crashing build up of an orgasm just barely balanced over the precipice.

“Alex--” Garrick's voice was still rough, still a hoarse whisper. “Come for me, Alex.”

I didn't follow orders very often, but this one was impossible to refuse. I stopped holding back, I stopped holding myself up, I stopped thinking entirely as the sensation took me. I was vaguely aware I was making some sort of noise, and then I was only aware of the shuddering, violent heat of pleasure that was ripping through me.

Garrick fucked me though it, following me closely with his own climax. He came inside me with a grunt and a gasp, his hips shuddering to a stop as his arms clutched around me. 

We laid like that, boneless in a heap, slowly getting our breath back. Eventually he slid out of me and pushed off the bed. I was only vaguely aware of it. I was utterly and completely wasted. My body felt like it was only two degrees from melting together with the duvet. 

At some point, I'm not sure how much later, the bed dipped as Garrick got back onto it. I grunted, complaining a little as he ran a damp washcloth over the front of my oversensitive body. I also realized he'd pulled the duvet out from under us, letting it fall in a heap at the foot of the bed. I'd rolled onto my front, still blissed out and drifting on the edge of sleep.

Garrick settled in behind me, wrapping his arms around my midriff and pulling me into him.

“Mmmm I never get t'be the little spoon...” I said absently slurring my words. My face still muffled in the sheets. I could feel Garrick's lips curve up into a smile as he placed a gentle kiss on the back of my neck.

“Go to sleep, Alex.”

So I did.

ooo

I woke up to grey, pre-dawn light gently illuminating the room. The shades were drawn, but a little light got through around the edges and let me see the room I was in-- sort of, anyway. 

I was groggy, and sore, although as the events of last night came back to me in waves I realized I was not as sore as I should have been. My muscles ached from prolonged tension but the other parts of me felt only well used, not destroyed. The wonders of modern lube technology.

Garrick was sleeping soundly behind me, one hand draped over my hips. I slipped out from beneath it until I was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

I looked back at him. In the calm of sleep his features had softened. He looked younger. He couldn't have been much older than me, but this was the first time he'd really looked it. There was something about his controlled grace when he was awake that seemed older, more experienced.

I watched him breathe for a few counts, taking in the damage I'd done last night. 

Oops. 

He had bruises and hickeys all over his neck, and a very obvious bite mark on his shoulder. There were also angry red scratches all down his back. I looked down at my nails. They were as short as they always were, but maybe they were due for a file down.

I absently hoped Garrick had a private gym, or he was going to have a lot of looks and whispers to deal with. The idea weirdly delighted me.

I got up silently and started the old morning-after-clothing-search. The room wasn't really bright enough to pick out who's things were who's, but my diviner's sight helped me fetch everything that we'd cast aside.

I came back to the living room and slipped my shirt and jumper back on. I was filthy. I smelled like sweat and lube, and while Garrick had done pretty well with his damp washcloth last night, I was still fairly disgusting. My hair especially was an adventure. It was gelled straight up and out with sweat and oil from all the hands going through it. 

I sighed and figured one more couldn't do any harm-- pushing my fingers through the mop and trying to jam it down. It was an effort in futility, but since I was going to have to take the tube home I thought I might not want to look quite so much like I'd just been railed into next week.

I paused at the front door, double checking I had everything I'd come in with. As I patted down my pockets I saw something on the hall table. It was a white piece of paper, ripped off from something, with a phone number scrawled on it in black ink. 

I stared at it for a second. I didn't think it had been there last night when we came in. I turned it over, looking for a clue. Nothing.

If it hadn't been there when we came in that means Garrick must have put it here at some point during the evening. The only time we'd been apart was when he'd been in the kitchen, or potentially after we'd finished but before he came back to bed. That part of the evening was sort of lost for me in a post-coital pleasure fog.

I grinned, slowly. A small smile tugging at the edge of my mouth. 

I folded the paper and tucked it into my pocket, slipping out the front door and into the dark hallway beyond. 

Garrick must have assumed I'd duck out in the morning. I didn't know whether to be flattered he could predict my actions or perturbed he understood me well enough to do so. I settled on casually appreciative. 

I was certainly going to have to do some parsing out when it came to my feelings about last night, and Garrick. I didn't feel that sort of creeping dread you get when you know you've just made a terrible and embarrassing mistake, but I didn't feel like I was walking on sunshine either.

I took the stairs down to the front entrance of the building and stepped out into the chilly London morning. I felt the crinkle of the paper in my pocket and thought about Garrick. Once again, just like last night at the bar, he was declaring his position and then dropping the ball squarely in my court; to do with what I will.

I pulled out my phone as I walked, holding up the paper next to it as I pressed the new contact button. I hesitated. Was this really a good idea? Was Garrick someone I wanted in my life? In whatever capacity? 

Last night had been... really fucking good, actually. But the sex aside I felt... conflicted. I felt like I was missing something, like someone looking at this situation from the outside would see the glaring loophole and scream at me for being an idiot.

I shook my head, putting in the number quickly and then shoving my phone back into my pocket.

I could always delete it later.

I made my way towards the tube station, the orange gold rays of the morning sun just starting to light up the top floor windows of the building behind me. 

I took one last look up at Garrick's building, and then I turned the corner, and headed for home.


	2. I Forgot There's Art Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drew these around when I wrote this monster :p

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic... over a year ago? And I never posted it bc let's face it, only 2 other people in the world have read these books and they're my poor roommates (who I forced into it after I got obsessed lmao)


End file.
